A year of writing a little bit of everything. Writers Write, Right?

the longest run-on sentence ever

been sitting on the sofa in your pajamas at 10:29 a.m. getting ready to work with your child on her spelling lesson when the doorbell rings and the partially covered window on the door gives you a peek at the older members from your first congregation that e-mailed you several weeks ago about coming on this day to enjoy lunch with you, but that you TOTALLY FORGOT were coming, causing you to shout for your child to answer the door while you run into your bedroom and throw on something that doesn’t necessarily say, welcome to my put together home, but also doesn’t say, I just crawled out of bed, only to greet them in the living room with a smile and a hug because you really are thrilled to see them and talk with them, all the while mentally scrambling through any and every possibility of what you are going to serve them for lunch, which you must do, because that is of course the reason they came, and remembering with utmost thanksgiving the delicious hamburgers that your members from your current congregation sent home with you after last night’s potluck, and the salad that you can supplement with the extra vegetables that were gifts from the neighbors across the street, as your children give your visitors a tour of the home with a clean kitchen which is only clean, because you spent the morning making it so, but with piles of laundry everywhere and underwear in some form or another, on the floor of nearly every room in the house, ending back in the kitchen where lunch is now enjoyed, complete with a delicious dessert of ice cream, and of cookies made and delivered last week by your father-in-law, while lovely conversations of friends and family take place, where questions of concern and discussions of joys culminate with more hugs and the taking of pictures with which you will remember not just the craziness of this day, but also of these people who cared for you well and continue to love you in spite of your many, many, MANY imperfections?

Not sure what this would be like (wink, wink), but I could guess. As homesteaders, we are at least an hour away from anything, so I can’t even get something quick to eat. We make everything by scratch–seriously everything. Even when someone says, “Hey, can I just have a sandwich?” I have to say, “Um…sure…it’ll just take me a minute to get some wheat…and then grind it…” You get the idea. It’s so hard when someone you love and appreciate comes by and you just want to SERVE them, and you’re at a loss. Sounds like you were blessed with some good resources at a great time. Nice job.

I laughed while I read this, only because this is totally something that would happen at our house! Sounds like you handled it with grace though! Great job! I don’t even know what I would have done….probably crawl under the couch cushions or something. 🙂